The cast of Sunagakure's storyline was nowhere near as large as Konoha's, and right now, the number of people Yubi could actually come into contact with was even smaller. Some of the important figures from the Sand's future hadn't even been born yet. So he truly hadn't expected that healing a story character would give him bonus experience points.
"If healing story characters gives bonus positive experience," Yubi thought, "then killing story characters should probably yield a huge amount of negative experience too."
The idea surfaced in his mind, then passed. He didn't have the luxury to dwell on it, because more wounded were still waiting for him.
Still, Sasori's injury had given him a much clearer sense of what the system could do.
Time trickled by inside the underground shelter.
Before long, Sasori woke up.
He first looked down at the bandages wrapped around his wound. Then he lifted his gaze to Yubi, who was walking over from the other side of the room. After a moment of silence, he suddenly said, "The human body is really fragile…"
Those words made Yubi's heart twitch.
It wasn't hard to understand why Sasori would think something like that. They were children of the Second Shinobi World War. The brutal struggle among the great ninja villages was grinding through lives at a horrifying rate, and on the battlefield, comrades died almost one after another.
"In the future, Sasori turns his own body into a puppet," Yubi thought. "Maybe this kind of idea was one of the sparks. But more than that… it was probably because of his parents."
Outwardly, though, Yubi only smiled.
"You only overused your chakra. Your wounds aren't that serious," he said. "Get some proper rest. You're one of Sunagakure's geniuses. If anything happens to you, I won't be able to explain it to Granny Chiyo."
"Is the city about to fall?" Sasori asked, changing the subject without the slightest hesitation.
It was already deep into the second night.
Aside from those too heavily wounded to move, there were not many people left in the underground chamber anymore. Most of the ones who could still fight had gone back out.
Yubi's expression darkened a little.
"At most, we can hold for another hour," he said. "If reinforcements still don't arrive by then, we'll have to find a way to relocate."
The battle in the canyon had already consumed almost everything Sunagakure had stationed here. The ninjas still fighting outside were doing so while injured, exhausted, and short on chakra. No one could keep that up for much longer.
And for the people inside the stronghold, there was a problem even uglier than that.
Once the intelligence team returned, they would have to retreat.
But this sealed underground room was packed with wounded. With so few people left, there was no way they could move everyone.
Which meant one thing.
Some of their comrades would have to be abandoned.
That cruel truth alone was enough to send a chill through anyone who thought about it too carefully.
"What are you planning to do?" Sasori asked at last.
He rose slowly to his feet and tied on his forehead protector.
Yubi's expression changed at once. He stepped in front of him without hesitation.
He had already seen through Sasori's intention. The boy wanted to return to the battlefield.
"Move," Sasori said flatly.
"You're my patient now," Yubi replied. "As your doctor, I'm responsible for your condition. Sorry, but you need to rest. You are not allowed to run around."
With a slight flick of his wrist, Sasori drew a puppet scroll into his palm.
Yubi's eyes flicked toward it. "By now, you can't have many puppets left after two days of fighting. Even if you go out now, it won't change anything. You'll just be throwing your life away."
"My puppetry can control more than puppets," Sasori said softly. "If I wanted to, I could turn you into one of my toys too."
Yubi grinned as if he hadn't noticed the cold threat hidden beneath that tone.
"You like me that much?"
He knew Sasori wasn't bluffing.
Sunagakure had no shortage of puppet masters, but only Sasori would one day perfect the creation of human puppets. He would take corpses, preserve them, implant chakra cores, and allow those human puppets to retain traces of the ninjutsu they had used in life. Right now, his technique in that area was still immature, but the signs were already there.
Over the past two days, Yubi had noticed it clearly. Sasori had already begun to consciously gather and study certain "materials."
Yubi's shameless reply made Sasori frown for the first time.
It was probably the first time he had ever realized that someone his age could be this shameless.
"I'll say it again," Sasori said. "Move aside."
"No."
Yubi's answer came with a smile.
Bang.
A cloud of white smoke burst from the scroll, and a snake puppet dropped soundlessly onto the floor.
At the same time, Sasori's fingers began to twitch.
The intent was obvious. If Yubi refused to move, Sasori would force him to.
Whoosh!
Driven by chakra threads, the snake puppet shot forward like a bolt of lightning, streaking through the dim room and lunging straight at Yubi.
Yubi reacted fast. He bent low and let the puppet skim past him by a hair, then immediately stepped in and rushed straight at Sasori instead.
Against most puppet masters, close combat was the correct answer. Their biggest weakness was being pressed at short range before they could fully deploy their mechanisms.
But Sasori was obviously not "most puppet masters."
As Yubi closed the distance, Sasori didn't retreat or even blink.
In midair, the snake puppet suddenly split into two.
Its lower half instantly transformed, joints clicking and rearranging in a blur, then whipped around behind Yubi and snapped shut around his neck like a metal collar.
The instant it tightened, Yubi's breathing hitched.
Pulled by the force of Sasori's chakra threads, he was yanked off balance and flung several meters away. He hit the ground hard and slid.
Sasori clearly had no intention of killing him.
This was just a lesson.
He took a step forward, intending to walk past Yubi and head for the exit.
Then his eyelid twitched.
He lifted his hand.
The chakra threads on his fingertips had been severed.
The remaining half of the puppet clattered lifelessly to the floor.
At the same time, Yubi—who had just been thrown away—reached up, tore the metal restraint from his neck with both hands, and hurled it aside.
"It was a feint…" Sasori thought, narrowing his eyes. "His real goal was to cut my chakra threads."
"Chakra Scalpel…"
He had already sensed the trace of chakra that had dissipated around Yubi's hand.
That kind of medical ninjutsu.
This guy could actually use it?
Yubi rubbed his neck once, then looked up at him with that same easy smile.
"Puppet masters are one of Sunagakure's most valuable combat forces. Outsiders might not understand them, but I'm one of our own. I know quite a bit about puppeteers." He tilted his head slightly. "Besides, I've been observing you for the last two days. Just like you've been secretly observing me."
He rose to his feet slowly.
"Of course, if you were in peak condition, I definitely wouldn't be your match. But right now?" Yubi shrugged. "Things are different."
He stretched his neck and let out a slow breath.
"Your wound is in the left side of your abdomen. It affected the nerves along your ribs. Pain there is vicious. Every time you move your arm, the force distribution shifts because of the nerves. You've been trying to hide it, but you can't hide that from my eyes."
Sasori said nothing.
Yubi continued, his voice no longer playful.
"I'm not much better than you. I haven't rested either. To be honest, I'm in terrible shape right now."
He paused, then met Sasori's gaze directly.
"But even like this, if you still can't get past me… then what exactly are you planning to do if you go out there? Die?"
Silence filled the underground chamber.
The assistants and wounded around them didn't dare speak.
These were just two boys. On the surface, they were children—young enough that, under normal circumstances, no one would look at them as anything more than academy students. But here, in this blood-soaked border stronghold, they had already become figures no one could ignore.
Sasori was the village's treasured genius, Chiyo's grandson, the prodigy everyone had pinned their hopes on.
Yubi, meanwhile, had practically become the backbone of the medical team. Without him, a huge number of injured Sand shinobi would already be dead.
Neither of them was someone ordinary people could casually interfere with.
As long as the conflict between them didn't escalate too far, the others had no intention of stepping in.
Yubi's smile finally disappeared.
"If that's really all you amount to, then go ahead."
His eyes became calm, almost cold.
"I'll just feel sorry for Granny Chiyo."
He let the words hang for a breath, then added, "And I'll be deeply disappointed in you."
The moment that final sentence fell, the air in the room seemed to tighten.
Sasori stared at him.
Yubi stared back without retreating a single step.
It was a quiet confrontation, but the pressure of it was enough to make the people nearby lower their voices and hold their breath.
Because beneath those simple words lay something heavier than anger.
Sasori had lost his parents. Since then, everyone in the village had either pitied him, tolerated him, or placed expectations on him. But very few people would ever speak to him this directly. Fewer still would stop him head-on.
Yubi, meanwhile, understood far more than he could ever say aloud.
He knew what Sasori would become.
He knew how much disappointment the boy would one day pour into the village, into the Third Kazekage, into the fragile body he now despised. He knew where this road could lead if no one ever reached out and interrupted it, even once.
That was why he refused to move.
Not just because Sasori was a patient.
Not just because Sasori was a genius.
But because if this boy walked out now and died here, then one of the few real hopes Sunagakure had would vanish in this canyon before it ever truly bloomed.
And if he survived while carrying that same silent fracture in his heart…
Then the future would only become even worse.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then, at last, Sasori turned away.
Without another word, he walked back to the spot where he had been sitting earlier and lowered himself down again.
Only then did the tension in the room loosen.
No one cheered. No one sighed aloud. But the sense of invisible pressure pressing on everyone's chests eased all at once.
Yubi stood there for another second, making sure Sasori truly had no intention of getting up again.
Then he turned and resumed his work.
There were still wounded to treat.
Still Sand shinobi outside fighting for every minute.
Still reinforcements that had not yet arrived.
The war had not ended. The crisis had not passed. None of their problems had been solved.
But for the moment, at least, one thing had been forced back from the brink.
As Yubi knelt beside the next injured shinobi and reached for his tools, he could still feel the soreness around his neck where the puppet restraint had tightened.
He smiled faintly to himself.
A dangerous genius, a battlefield on the verge of collapse, and a future filled with landmines.
Sunagakure really was full of trouble.
But maybe… just maybe… that was exactly why it was worth trying to change.